


Clinging like ash

by Thihi



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22883914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thihi/pseuds/Thihi
Summary: Titus talks himself into it.
Relationships: Titus Hardie | Klaasje
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Clinging like ash

Everything was a bit too good. She was beautiful, fun to be around in the early hours of the night ... well, as long as you didn't get nosy or too serious. And she really liked to fuck. The cigarette was burning slowly in her hand, the whirl of smoke raising slowly towards the grey and red clouds, lit from below by the first rays of sunlight escaping from behind the horizon. Or maybe he should say some things were a bit too good. Some less so.

Getting inside her was easy for him. All it took was a bottle and a couple of lines of speed that the kid paid him as protection. Getting inside her head? That was another thing. She stood there, staring at the ocean while he stared at her. What was that expression? How could someone look so careless and so afraid at the same time? As if a lifetime of dodging shots, real or imagined, had chiselled away at her features until all you could see in it were the bullets.

He really wanted to say something but felt both humbled and exhausted in a minute whenever he tried. He didn't like feeling humbled. He was the leader. People looked up to him. It's not that he thought he needed to act very tough, but the power he wielded was almost as imaginary as the bullets that had carved that face he was lost in. Never show weakness. Just brotherhood, unity, and strength in it.

And she made him look so stupid. The other day he had gone home, and instead of jacking off one last time and going to bed, he had stayed up and pulled a worn dictionary from his dad's old books and started reading. He didn't have anything else. The radio computer that had also belonged to his dad no longer worked, and he didn't know anyone who could repair it. The last time he had tried to, it had only made things worse.

Aasvogel, Bhutan, isopropanol. He had read for hours, trying to make sense of some of the words she had used. Usually, he just nodded and grinned when someone said something he didn't get. At first, it had worked with her as usual, but eventually, she had said something that was not funny at all. Well, he didn't know it at the time and had laughed. After that, she had stopped expecting interaction and just used him as a dumpster for the thoughts she went through to escape whatever was behind them. Then even that had stopped. This was the new norm. After the high sex, and then the low sex, she stood there smoking, silent.

Ice sculpture. That's one of the things he had learned about in the book that night. Apparently, somewhere in the North, they had competitions on who could make the nicest shapes with solidified water. He had never been one for art. But the term fit. She was ice-cold and beautiful. You already said beautiful, he thought. I didn't say anything, I'm thinking, he thought. Shit, I think I actually did say that earlier tonight. She had been on top, grinding against him like a runaway machine. He had watched her breasts, her lips, her closed eyes and hair, and it had just come out. Fuck! Why?

She hadn't answered, but after a while had gripped him like a vice with her small hands, pulled him up and then turned her face against the wall. That was answer enough. He wasn't there to watch, and he certainly wasn't there to talk. Normally he wouldn't mind, the view wasn't bad from the back either. But he felt his cheeks get red. Embarrassed, he tried to make up for it by pulling her against him so hard that by the end they were both screaming loud enough that all the boys must've heard it. Well, at least he got that going for him.

He was the biggest man around. Strongest arms, toughest face. A real alpha. She would've laughed at that. Goddamn. That's all he had left. It would have to do. She sighed almost inaudibly and looked at her cigarette. It had nearly burned to her fingers with almost an inch of ash still clinging to it against all odds in the coastal wind. Just like him to her, he realised. Just before... She put the cigarette out and glanced briefly at his direction.

"Do you ever get the feeling..." she began but stopped mid-sentence. "Yes?" he perked up immediately. He waited for a while for her to continue, but nothing more came out of her mouth. He did it again. Whenever she said anything, he started building castles in the ash-coloured sky. This time, he caught himself before he started thinking about taming her. About bringing her home to meet mother. About living with her in a house of their own, far away from all this macho bullshit. That was the thought that hurt the most afterwards if he gave himself time to get there. Not tonight, luckily.

She picked up her lighter from the small table beside the balcony door and wandered inside. He followed dutifully a few steps behind. As she sat down on the edge of the bed, he picked up his jacket, ready to leave. "Not yet." He looked up, surprised, staring at her, wondering. She must've taken it as defiance. "Please?" she whispered. There it was again. Those rare moments of vulnerability dished out at the most opportune moments. He knew it was a play, but at the same moment, he didn't. I mean, there was a chance she actually liked him, right?

Then why was she always looking at her... NO. Stop thinking about that right now. It was ok. They were just good friends. Nothing had happened that night like they both had said. Nothing had happened. They had just had a few drinks together and watched the sun go down like they both had said. His belief in it contracted all of his muscles. It was true, had to be.

He sat down. She pushed on his chest, gently, and rolled on top of him. He wanted to say something. About how he could protect her. Against anything. But she just put her index finger on his lips and gave him that smile. The one that had trapped him in the first place. One side of her mouth slightly higher than the other, head slightly lopsided, a glimmer in her eye. The dangerous smile.

He gave in.


End file.
